A Time for Jim to Give
by ExcursionGuy84
Summary: ONE MORE CHAPTER. One evening, Jim finds a young, destitute floozy girl with no family, provisions or clothes. When she nearly dies at the hands of her murderous master, Jim gets furious and...
1. Default Chapter

**Note: **To all of you Die-hard Treasure Planet/ rabid(?)-for-Jim Hawkins fans, I apologize if I've gone waaaay overboard with this idea. I've seen and read how much many(?) seem to take a shine to him and just wanted to have some fun/ whet yer appetite 'n imaginations in a way. So...if you don't like this idea, then I will just make it a very simple 'n short tale. Otherwise, it may be a whole 'nother adventure for Jim.

Jim sighed tiredly as he continued to meander down Lowell Street, the main thoroughfare for traffic passing through the Montressor village of Kentucky. He was returning from an Interstellar Naval Command meeting that had lasted a good two hours in the offices of the Krandall & Stovers Master Shipbuilding Company and was quite worn-out. Still, he knew he'd succeeded in his assignment.

From the earliest beginnings of solar shipping and commerce, merchant and naval ships alike had been at great risk from pirates and renegade privateers anywhere in the galaxy. And the greatest advantage pirates possessed were smaller yet faster and highly-maneuverable sloops or schooners to outrace and evade any retaliatory gunfire.

But, ever since Jim's magnificent exploit above Treasure Planet, the Royal Interstellar Command had begun to see the potential of solar surfers as multi-purpose tactical craft that would serve well in fleet and single ship duties for fast assault, ship defense/counterassault, medical evacuation and scouting.

And so, Jim's superior officer, Vice-Admiral Horatio Valencia, had requested his presence as consultant and spokesperson at a very crucial meeting that would determine the pros and cons of solar surfers in the Interstellar Navy.

And because Jim had done his utmost to explain, demonstrate, persuade and prove the awe-inspiring capabilities of a combative solar surfer, the issue was taken to vote that same night and passed unanimously by the High Admiralty of the Interstellar Command.

In addition, the K&S Master Shipbuilders had signed a freshly-drafted contract with Fleet Tactical Command to mass-construct 450 military-spec/combat-ready surfers; this would also include special modification & outfitting of about a hundred Naval vessels—about 1/5 of the entire Royal Interstellar Naval Fleet.

And so it was that Jim exited once the gathering was adjourned; he had done his job and now was walking home as the last rays of the sun set the evening sky into an orange fury dressed with gray clouds. Jim was anxious to reach the Benbow Inn before dark to share a filling dinner and warm evening with Bethany his 20 year-old wife and their 5 year-old fraternal triplets: Faith, Samantha and Samuel. His dad, Leland, had taken over Inn-keeping duties from Sarah for 5 days so that she could rest and relax at the Montressor Garden & Forest Lodge with its natural hot-water springs, mineral baths, 5,000 private acres of thick, heavily-scented pine, spruce fir and juniper forests and vegetable & fruit gardens. So, with John Silver, B.E.N., the Grump Family and his grandchildren at his command, Leland ruled the roost and kept things well-under control.

As Jim kept walking though Kentucky, he took little notice of his surroundings.

That is until...

...he stopped and listened more intently for a second or two. There, he heard it again: a sound like heavy-sobbing. He lifted his head and looked around trying to determine the source. It seemed to emanate from a very dark & foreboding alleyway. With his military training & survival instincts rising in caution, he reached down into his right boot and withdrew his silver 50-caliber Smith & Wesson revolver. He checked the chamber, thumbed back the hammer and advanced slowly with his sense on full alert.

But all that was visible when he entered were several empty wine and ale barrels along with broken crates and glass on the cobblestones. Then...there came the crying again...and it seemed to be coming from...a metallic box not more than three yards further in the alley. Jim covered the distance and leaned over to look inside.

He immediately had to turn away his eyes: it was a half-naked, sorely-bruised very young girl who had the appearance of a "lady-of-the-night"—except that the girl looked way too young and small to...to...well, whatever. Her upper body was completely exposed with only the shredded, ragged remains of a once-white skirt to cover her lower extremities. Her brownish-blonde hair was very stringy, filthy and infested with lice. On top of that, she was very cold and shaking from heat loss.

Taking another breath, Jim looked back with deep compassion in his Prussian-blue eyes. Thinking for a few moments, he slowly removed his old black jacket and held it out over the box. "Here," he said over the girl's weeping. Only then did she stop and notice someone was nearby. She instinctively covered her upper body and sank down into a fetal position. But Jim just reached out further and dropped his jacket into the box. "Take it," he said, "I'll be right back with something." With that he disappeared out of the alley.

About ten minutes later, Jim came back with a hot-steaming platter of four roasted Cornish hens, one 16-oz. beef loin, mashed potatoes and a giant mug of apple cider. He looked into the box but the girl wasn't there!

"That for me?", came a hesitant yet soft voice. Jim looked up and saw the girl was sitting on a wooden crate with his black jacket wrapped around her drawn-up knees and upper body.

Jim sighed with relief and walked over to her. "Yeah," he said starting to feel a little warm inside. "Here." And he held out the platter for her to take...which she did very slowly.

Then, once it was in her hands, she hastily dug in her hands and began to desperately wolf down the potatoes, the beef and then pick apart the hens with a few slugs of the cider. "Too hot?" Jim asked. She nodded slightly as Jim pulled a full canteen of cool water from his waist and passed it to her as well. The poor thing emptied it in three long pulls of water. "Thanks," she whispered before belching loudly and handing it back to Jim. "Sure," he answered and watched her finish of the rest of her food.

The lass then used a thin strip of her skirt to wipe her mouth while keeping a straight gaze upon Jim. "Um...,"Jim began with his hand at his chin, "...You...don't...have—"and the girl shook her clumpy, sodden honey-colored tresses. "Twas me first bite of rations since I was sent sprawling out here with no change of clothing nor shilling...only 'bout a two-night ago."

Jim's face looked on her with deep pity and he wondered what could be done for her. "You...don't...have anyone to help you?" he asked. She shivered strongly before acquiescing to a shake of her head once more. Jim was beginning to sense that his questions were very painful for her to answer so he thought of something else.

But the girl slowly and stiffly stretched her arms and yawned. "...haven't had me a good nights rest in two days either," she spoke through her long breaths. She then rubbed her eyes and began to slowly let herself lean over and rest her head on the ground. In a few moments, her now-filled body was fully-unconscious as her worn-out brain followed suit.

But still Jim just stood there. He genuinely felt very sad that this poor girl was out here with no family, friend, shelter, warm drink, food or even decent clothing.

Just then, his mind halted: an idea had just occurred to him! He pondered it with his hand still stroking his chin and then looked down at the sleeping-but-still-shivering destitute young lady.

Leland straightened up and stretched out his arms over his head; his back was beginning to feel strained from all the bending over he'd done most of the day: stowing and removing hot pans and platters of steaming honey-onion glazed duck legs, beef cutlets, pepper & thyme-laced grouse, roasted potatoes and purp & blueberry pies. Silver had taken a well-earned rest period to catch some sleep in his quarters while B.E.N. continued to literally juggle dual roles of waiter and busboy. Fortunately, the last customers were served their dinners while Bethany, Faith, Samantha and Samuel had their portions at a smaller corner table.

"Say, Bethany?" Leland called over to his daughter-in-law as he passed through the swinging kitchen door. "Do you believe Jim should be home anytime?" Bethany's brown eyes grew a little concerned as she thought while chewing a piece of grouse in her mouth. She swallowed and then replied, "I believe that he should have returned..." and she looked at her pocket-timepiece, "...not more than half-an hour ago." He voice betrayed a little anxiety as she knew her husband wouldn't be late...unless...

Jus then, the main front door opened and there was Jim—restrained between two middle-aged female military officers. One was a tall, gray-haired human in an ocean-blue overcoat with the markings of an Interstellar Naval Commodore. The other was a Zorroanion (a red-furred fox race with the humanoid body structure) attired in the dark, forest green overcoat and insignia of an Army Colonel.

Leland, Beth and the children all looked up and gaped with wide eyes at their son, husband and father with surprise and shock.

But the fox-like female spoke up. "Are you this boy's father?" she asked with her gaze fixed upon Leland. He stared ahead until his eyes blinked a few times and he asked the officer what she said. "Is This YOUR Son, Sir?" she asked with more urgency as Jim rolled his eyes with extreme disinterest. "Yes, he is," Leland answered as he put down the platter he was holding and set his hands on his hips.

"Look it's—", Jim began before the fox-officer interrupted him. "We shall decide what is important or not, is that understood, Young Man?" Jim sighed and slowly bobbed his head. "Yes Ma'am," he mumbled tiredly.

The Commodore and Colonel led Jim in by the arms and closed the front door. "Your son, Sir, was discovered making his way down a public avenue dressed most highly-inappropriate for an extremely-well trained & disciplined young soldier that he is." "What do you speak of?", Leland asked further before looking at Jim. "Or should I say: How were you dressed Jim?" "Go on," prompted the human Commodore to Jim, "You chose reveal it so publicly, you may as well exhibit so now."

Jim sighed and then began to unbutton the long, black raincoat that he had on. When he undid the last button, he pulled away the flaps to show.......

**Author's Note: **Doesn't everybody just Love Cliffhangers??? Well, I haven't done ones with enough suspense or anticipation but I do like to have some fun in my style of writing.

Another thing, this tale is only meant to be a completely made-up, "wild-imagination", "good-deed-taken-too-far" sort of story; it does NOT reflect my actual thoughts, feelings AND DEFINITELY IS **N-O-T** Slash or "homo-hooey"; it is only meant to be a "don't-do-this-in-real-life" sort off funny-yet-Good Samaritan style of doing something that blesses someone.


	2. See that He understands

....his entire body unclothed except for his knee-length black cotton boxer under-shorts!

Everyone was aghast and horrified...except for the triplets who were just plain curious and didn't understand. "Daddy, what happened to your shirt and pants?", asked Faith with wide Prussian-blue eyes. Bethany gave a worried look to her children and then back to Jim with a sort of embarrassment and trepidation.

"Jim," his dad began as he walked over and gestured with his hands perturbed, "What is the meaning of this? Why on Montressor are you...walking around without any _decent _clothes on?"

Jim sighed heavily and met his dad's stern gaze. "I'm sorry Dad, but I found someone who didn't have anything at all. She, uh well..." "She?" Bethany asked with even more unbidden fear in her throat and eyes. "Yeah, she...was...cold, hungry and with no food or warmth and her clothes were ripped up. She didn't have anything or any place to go. So, uh...I, well, I bought her some food and drink, but, uh...I...didn't have anymore money to get her even blanket. I just...couldn't let her die from the cold and the rain after what I'd done for her." He finished and then dropped his head down.

"And so you chose to _gallantly_ give up your coverings and _parade_ yourself out in broad view of the whole town without any regard as to _your_ decency or other's visual comfort, hmmm?" asked the Commodore rhetorically. But Jim didn't answer.

Leland stepped forward and placed his right hand firmly on Jim's shoulder. "Well," he said with a quick clearing of his throat, "being as he _is my son_, we shall both discuss this matter and see that such event is not taken to extreme measures in the future."

"And if you further please, Sir," the Colonel added, "be certain that he understands our reasons for disapproval. Good-day to you, Sir." "And to you as well," Leland replied. Jim shrugged before slightly turning and adding with glum appreciation, "Thanks." And with that the two female officers exited and shut the door behind them.

"Jim," Leland began, "what exactly possessed you to go so far?" "Look, Dad," Jim began with a sigh and motion of his hands, "like I said, the girl didn't have any decent clothes and she was freezing to death! I couldn't leave her and let that happen to her; I had to help!" "I know, Jim, and I do agree that you did right in wanting to help her and give her food. But there's _better_ ways of providing for someone in need than giving up your shirt and pants. Have you no sense of decency or privacy?" Jim didn't answer but hung his head; he knew that no answer of his would convince his father or anyone otherwise.

Leland sighed after a long silence and shook his head. Then, a small smile appeared on his face and he gazed back at Jim with his hands on his hips. "Well," he stated, "this is what I want you to do Jim: tomorrow, you'll go back and find the girl and bring her some food, hot drink and clothes that she can keep. And if she has no place warm and safe to stay, well then, invite her back here to stay. And if she needs employment, we can always use a few extra hands around here—for a good salary and basic necessities. Okay, Son?" Jim looked up at his Dad and then, a small smile grew upon his lips and he nodded.

"Well then," Bethany stated as she came up next to her still-raincoat-and-boxer-clad husband, "With your permission Father, I shall personally see to it that Jim is recompensed well enough for his loss today."

Jim looked at her curiously and then with slight shock at the mischievous glint in her lovely brown eyes. She just smiled and stood on her toes to pull his head close and whisper in his ear. Jim's face brightened and he nodded. "Yeah, sure, me too, I'd love that." He said with a little grin. "I know you will," Beth answered with her hand still on his cheek, "And it will be most memorable, I can assure you well, Jimbo." And with that said, she pulled his face to hers, closed her eyes and melted her full, pink lips onto his as his arms spread around her waist and pulled her close enough to smell her rose-red hair.

"Alright, alright, you two," Leland spoke with affection, "take it upstairs so the children can eat in peace."


	3. A Return Expedition

At 9:30 the morning afterwards, Jim, accompanied by Samantha and Faith, was slowly making his way back through Kentucky. The girls each had a canvas bag slung from their small shoulders while their tall father hefted a 3 foot wooden crate. And as they passed each building, person and open space between the establishments, they were sharp-eyed for the young girl Jim helped the evening before.

"What was her name, Daddy?" queried Faith with a look up at Jim. He just shrugged. 'She didn't tell me," he answered reluctantly," and I didn't think to ask." "Well Mommy says that it's very important to ask someone their name first when you meet somebody," she stated matter-of-factly. Jim smiled happily upon his oldest daughter; she was very smart and highly intelligent along with her excellent memory that had to come from her mother. But then Samantha spoke up. "Daddy," she asked looking up as well, "why was she—"

"Whoa, wait-wait, Samantha—quick, get out of the way," Jim commanded as he gently pulled his daughter out of the path of a gigantic wine-barrel wagon drawn by a four-horse team that came suddenly from around the corner ahead. Jim led the girls to the opposite side of the street while watching for any other traffic.

When they were in the clear, Samantha took a breath and went on. "I was asking, Daddy, why the lady didn't tell you her name." Jim shrugged slightly. "Guess she was too tired to talk for long." "Is she still wearing your clothes too?" said Faith as she jumped a small mud puddle. "Yeah, I think so Faith. I mean, it was raining and cold last evening and she only had her—Oh there's the alley."

Jim turned to the left and crossed the road as the two sisters hurried their steps as best as their flat-soled shoes and long skirts could allow. Jim came to a halt right at the corner of the building on the left; he was being cautious in case there were more dangerous and vile inhabitants of this poorly-lit vicinity. "What's wrong, Daddy?" "Shhhhh," he whispered with a finger to his lips, "talk low, Samantha, there may be some bad people in here so we have to be sharp and watch for anyone who may not be good." He was then silent as his big eyes took in every wall brick, cobblestone, piece of trash and even the building roofs. "Okay, this is—" "HEY JIMMY!!!" came a loud sudden and familiar voice that made the girls shriek in fright and Jim nearly fall forward.

"B.E.N.!!!" Jim whispered loudly and perturbed as he whirled around, "SSSHHHHH, Quiet!" "Ooops, sorry, sorry," apologized the under-perceptive android. "B.E.N., why are you sneaking up like that?" Jim asked more than a little upset. "Oh, sorry Jimmy, I was just here to give you this." And B.E.N. smiled sheepishly as he held out a medium sized brown bag with a cord tying it off. "Bethany said the girl you're going to help might need some mo—" "B.E.N.," Jim exclaimed as he clamped his hands onto B.E.N.'s mouth, "Careful, nobody's supposed to see what we're doing." "Why not, Daddy," Faith wondered. "So nobody who's bad can stop us or take away what we're bringing." Jim took one more look around to be sure no one was looking or following. "Okay, B.E.N.: keep the bag out of sight. Here we go." And lifting the box once more under one arm while his other went around Samantha's shoulder, he led the robot and his daughters into the somewhat foreboding alleyway.

A few steps inside and Jim could see the metal box and the wood crate where the girl had been the night before, except that…there was no sign of her. Remembering to look around cautiously, the party advanced until Jim stopped right in front of the box. He peered in only to be disappointed. "Where is she, Daddy?" "Don't know," he sighed a little dejected.

Faith meanwhile looked around a little nervously before she saw something. "Hey Daddy, look," she exclaimed as she pointed. Jim stepped over and leaned forward to see before reaching out his hand. "What is it, Jimmy?", B.E.N. asked ever curious. Jim slowly stood straight again as he examined a broken piece of the wooden platter in his hand.

On the ground in front of him and his daughter, along with the serving tray's remains, was a pile of rags that once was the shape and grace of a white blouse and red-striped long skirt. The chicken bones were spread about and crushed as if by a monstrous weight. A stone's throw away was the large mug, bent and twisted in a violent manner. Yea, the whole scene before them bespoke of a terrible destruction that, to Jim, did not fit the manner of the mysterious girl.

"What's happened here, Daddy?" Samantha put forth. Her daddy was silent as his round blue eyes looked down pensively and his fingers rotated the wood shard within his grasp.

After about a minute, Jim looked up and at his little girls and android friend. "You know," he began in a concerned tone, "I think…somebody…sigh…attacked her." "But why, Daddy?" "Yeah Jimmy, who'd do such a thing?" "I don't know, B.E.N." Jim replied as he stood with his chin in his hand. "…No wait—what if—she was a…a…" He stumbled over his thoughts as his eyes met his daughter's beautiful yet curious ones. "What if the girl I helped was a "floozy" and her master or someone else took her away, because…" Jim's words trailed off as he realized something: perhaps the assailant took such a course out of anger at Jim's service. If that was the case, then perhaps the girl was in even greater danger and…Jim looked up suddenly with an angry expression.

"Come on, Faith, Samantha, B.E.N.," he stated in a firm and barely controlled tone of voice. "We're going to find out what happened to her and we're not going home 'til we help her out!"


	4. 15 Minutes Later

**15 minutes later…**

"I don't like this place, Daddy", Faith shivered as she glanced up at the horribly-ramshackle excuse of a prostitute house. "It's okay, Faith; you're not going in." Jim knelt down to look his girls in their blue eyes. "Here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to go in and ask for the girl I helped and if she's here, I'll come back and get the box and bags and I'll bring them to her. B.E.N.?" "Roger Jimmy, I'll take Good care of them while you're gone," replied the batty 'bot with a tall stance and salute. "Good, stay with B.E.N. Girls and don't wander off; I'll be right back."

He turned and jogged up the steps and past several bodacious would-be-flirters towards the lobby desk where a 30 woman stood filling in a big ledger. "Um…" Jim began with his hand raised but the tired mistress looked up at his first syllable. "'mite bit early it still be fer cust'mers, sir. Several ov the girls—" "Nononononono, I'm not a, a…," Jim fumbled for words before holding up his left hand. "Here, look" he said exhibiting his wedding band Bethany had given him. "Ohhhhhh, I see then," nodded the dark-brunette as her cap slipped slightly on her head.

"I'm um….well, you know if there's a certain girl here? She's young, 'bout…15 or 16, light-brownish hair, long black lashes, hazel eyes with deep rings, very white skin and, uh….dressed…in a black jacket and…dark green cargo pants."

The lady stared upwards as she deciphered Jim's words and tried to make a picture in her mind. After a few minutes of scratching her hair under the cap, she leveled her gaze at Jim and answered.

"Be as it is, ye've actually cume t'the rit place…'cept the trouble is, well…that's jest what the girl yer lookin' for is in." "What?" Jim exclaimed as his big Prussian blue eyes went fully open. "Her name's Jill 'n the master, well, what treatment she a'got th'day afore didn't sit too well at'all with 'im. And old Zebe, well dearie, ye ain't never afore seen yerself a ruthless man 'til ye've set foot into 'ole Zebe's parlor 'thout askin' ferst." "Wait, wait, what's he going to do to her?" Jim asked anxiously. "Probly already done gon 'n started t'give 'er a whippin' 'n a strippin' jest fer herself getting' sum royal treatment and jest b'kuz he's a 'ole slime pus wad that only knows hard, strong drink day 'n night—"

"Where'd he take her?!?!", Jim asked with desperation in his voice.

The woman was taken aback for about two seconds before replying with a throat clearing first. "'haps in his own quarters, dearie. Up th'stairs, seckon floor, last door at th'end ov th'port side hall-a-way there. And God be—"

Jim took off immediately like a startled antelope! Across the lobby floor to the stairs which he took three at a time. He was at the second floor landing in the twinkling of an eye and pressed on at full tilt speed down the left hallway. He leaped and twisted his body through the air to bring his strong legs crashing feet-first through the suite door.

B.E.N., Faith and Samantha were intently watching the traffic passing them by without so much as a glance back at the whorehouse at their backs.

But then SUDDENLY—

"CRASSSHHH!!!!"

They all turned around in time to see a dark form fall in a cloud of splintered wood and glass into a thick, deep mud hole right below the building's left corner. The figure landed flat and splattered mud for two feet radius in every direction.

Meanwhile, Jim stood upstairs just standing still while his chest cavity heaved up and down in a quest for more oxygen. He stared intently at the hole where a few seconds before was a rotting-frame window.

A small groan of pain came from the nearby bed got his attention and he moved over inspect the occupant curled up in a blood-spattered ball.

Yes, it was the same girl he'd seen last evening only she was again clad in a tattered outfit that was once Jim's khaki shirt. Her long, stringy yet beautiful reddish-brown hair was flayed and speckled with blood as well. Upon seeing the fluid, Jim's startled eyes immediately looked her over fully. What he realized made him shiver with horror: Jill's upper body had been lashed very, very severely; her whole right side, back, arms and abdomen were literally _torn_ by vicious marks that no ordinary horsewhip could inflict. But whatever the instrument that wrought this hurt, her life would ebb away without immediate medical succor.

"Hh-hh-hhhh….e-e-eell-l-ll….p…." the poor creature breathed in agony. "Shhh, it's okay, Jill, it's okay. I'm here to help you and that's what I'm going to do." With that, Jim hurriedly gathered the edges of the dirty white bed sheet and gingerly wrapped her up as tightly as possible to stanch the blood loss. Then, just as carefully and slowly, he lifted her up and held her close to his chest as he turned and went out of the trashy, garbage-filled room.

Not a few moments after impact, a crowd had begun to gather around the unconscious and injured figure lying in the mud puddle. It was a human man, short, scraggly with a fly-infested, filthy-beyond-unsanitary mane of facial hair and old, moth-eaten black breeches and stained striped vest with black coat.

As several robo-constables arrived and cleared away the crowd, B.E.N. and the girls stepped as far away as possible. "Look, there's Daddy," Samantha pointed as Jim trotted down the whorehouse steps with his white-covered burden. He came over and joined them without a single glance over at the scene to his right.

"What's happened Daddy?" Samantha asked, "Why did that man fall out of the window?" "I'll have to tell you when she's," and he nodded at the unconscious Jill in his arms, "got herself a doctor. Come on, quick, we've got to get her to a surgeon before—" "Hey, wait, You there, Sir," came the voice of the lobby patron as she came out and waved at Jim. "Jest where d'ya think yer takin' 'er?" "Look, she's in pain and losing blood! I've got to get her to a doctor or she'll die!", Jim answered a little annoyed and very anxious. "I'll see you later and let you know what's happening." Then, without further ado, he turned away and quickly began to jog down the street as fast as his feet could go…as the girls and B.E.N. once more did their utmost to keep pace.

**Author's Note: **Well, I see things have taken quite a turn for the…wait, I forget, is it better or worse??? Don't worry, it's not going to be bad. Jim just got carried away a bit and he did rather marvelously well at it too. Thanks again, **Courtesy **and **Captain Amelia** for your reviews and I'll do my best to keep this story moving concisely and well-paced.

"See You around."


	5. What Nobody's Ever done before

**One hour later…**

Silver reached out his mechanical hand and turned the front doorknob of the Kentucky Intersolar Hospital, three miles from the Benbow Inn. He pushed the door inwards but allowed a nervous Bethany to enter first. The two of them had come quickly upon the return of B.E.N., Samantha and Faith—without Jim.

As they passed into the lobby, two Robo-cops came wheelin' around the hallway corner. "Ma'am, Sir," they both stopped and "raised" their "hats" in a gesture of respect before rolling out the main door.

"Beggin' yer pardon, Ma'am," Silver spoke to a nurse at the lobby desk who looked up at the big old cyborg and the maroone-haired young woman before her. "Can you tell me please if there's a Jim Hawkins here?" asked Beth with anxious eyes. "Certainly," replied the nurse, "Visitor or patient?" "Visitor I believe," answered Beth as she readjusted her fringe-laced shawl on her shoulders. The nurse turned to a thick large ledger in front of her and ran her pointer finger over the day's entries. "Aha, here it is" and Silver and Bethany leaned over the counter to see.

"He came in late this morning carrying a young girl bleeding heavily from severe lacerations, gashes and cuts. She was admitted to surgery while your friend—" "Actually, he's my husband." "Oh, well, congratulations, Dear. Anyway, your husband should be in waiting room #3: go straight down this hallway on my left and look for the 5th door on your right."

"Jimbo!" Jim looked up startled from the reclining chair where a nurse was drawing blood from his left arm. "Silver? Beth?", he answered surprised as the two entered. "Oh Jim," Beth exclaimed as she half-ran over to his side, "What's happened?" "Whatcha been up to, Jimbo?" asked the tall cyborg somewhat cross. "Heard yeh's been pickin' fights with strangers." "Oh, you mean the old crustacean I knocked out a window?" "Jim, You Didn't!" Beth was taken aback; she'd never known her husband to act this way…except…for THAT moment when they'd first met.

"What was yeh tinkin' Jimbo, going in and actin' like so? Don't yeh know how'ta pick yer fights still" Jim looked down as his still-scrambled mind tried to recall the scene. "Look, I'm sorry that,...it had to come to this. But…he was going to kill her—because of me!" "What—kill her!?" Beth exclaimed, "Why Jim, what do you mean?"

So Jim began his narrative once more by starting from the moment he'd entered the brothel.

"I ran up the stairs and down the hall 'til…"

_BAAMM!!! Just like that the suite door gave way to his flying feet and he landed in shower of splinters as the remainder banged back from hitting the bedroom wall. Not a second later, Jim was on his feet as he took a defensive stance._

_Right three feet before him was a hairy, foul-smelling short man that had to be Zebe the house's master. The old cretin had a wild, cold yet intoxicated glare in his black evil, beady eyes. _

_And in his twisted right hand he grasped a horrifying-wicked "cat 'o nine tails"—a 4-foot long leather whip with pieces of thin metal, broken glass and actual fishing hooks tied to every thong strand. Even 5 hits across ANY flesh with such a gruesome instrument would cause sever bleeding that made the victim die within hours—even minutes._

"_Let her go," Jim ordered with barely bridled fury. "Get yer sorry excuse of a horse's posterior outta me inn, boy," the demonesque villain growled savagely as he leaned back his whip arm to aim a blow at Jim. "Lest' even Ye take the same course as me own—"_

_But Jim wasn't listening anymore. With all his strength, he bent at the wais, ran forward and "head-butted" the pimp named Zebe into the floor as the cat 'o nine tails fell out of his grasp. Jim immediately kicked it away and turned to look for the girl. "ArrrRRRGGHH-YEAAAAAAAAAAA" , screamed Zebe as he got back up, ran forward and literally flew forward through the air at Jim. Sensing the counterattack, Jim half-spun and threw up and straight out his right leg. The kick connected with the incoming body in time to send the cruel master flying back the other way—into the only bedroom window!_

"Yer sure,Jimbo, he didn't 'tack ya ferst?" "Yeah, I'm sure" His big, round blue-eyes half-hidden behind two big dark brown hair bangs showed no dishonesty or hidden thoughts. Silver and Beth just couldn't help but look at him with growing understanding…as did the nurse taking his blood.

"Nonetheless, 'twas a good thing you were there t'save 'er," the nurse spoke as she unplugged the tubes from Jim's arm. " 'Couldn't stand t'have 'nother one ov 'ole Zebe's lasses ride t'clouds of glory at his cruel hand."

Silver's eyes linked wide with surprise. "What do mean, 'ride to clouds of glory'?" Bethany asked as she helped her husband hold a gauze patch to his right inside elbow.

"That wicked horrible old man you fought, Jonas Zeberiah or "Zebe" as many call 'im, he's no r'specter of any creature save his old filthy flesh. And though he be the sole master of that old two-floor shack of a whorehouse, he'll not 'llow even th' poorest lass t'make home in his building. That is, either she be good-lookin' 'nuff to bring coin for his daily bottle of spirits or else he just give 'em a thief's scourging or toss 'em into the streets with barely a thread on their poor backs.

And those who do his bidding he only uses for his own needs and even goes far 'nuff as t'make them do nothing but wash floors and clothes, floors and clothes, floors and clothes all day long. An' sometimes, he come back so stone drunk, he'll chain up an whip whatever lass catches his eye first jest to entertainment. Too many of 'is girls perished that way. Worse, th' others be too scared t'even run away from that cruel villain"

The nurse finished and looked back at her shocked audience. She lowered her head and let out a heart-laden sigh. "'Tis very, very evil what the man do day after day, Sweetie. And it does my heart good t'see what ye've done."

"Wait," Jim began, "How do you know so much about this?" She paused with a deep, exhausted sigh. "Foller me and I'll tell ye."

So Jim slipped off the examining table and picked up his jacket. Then, with his bandaged left arms around his wife's shoulder, the young couple and Silver followed the nurse out the room, down the hall, around a left corner and into a white-walled, sunlit room.

There, lying in a simple wood bed with a thick mattress and comfortable white sheets, was the young girl known as Jill.

"Oh!" Beth gasped in horror as she raised her hand s to her wide-eyed face.

Jill was positioned flat on her chest with her backside unclothed for the amount of clear yet thick amount of petroleum jelly carefully spread and sealed all over her. And under this thick, protective yet clear coating, the utterly savage and shockingly revolting wounds were fully visible:

The 'cat o' nine-tails' metal and glass shards had literally gouged out portions of the skin deep enough to see flesh and fat (albeit little as there was);

Whatever skin that remained unscathed was either a very white tint or a purple shade

Her light-brown hair was even blood-spattered from the whip and the major lacerations (which is a poor definition here) which had touched her head;

Even her arms had not been spared the brutal treatment—there barely remained even a strand of epidermis!

The bed sheets were still soaking in a few trickles of body fluid that streamed from under the goo that encased the dear, ravaged soul inside.

"Close the door so no one hears or sees." Silver did so as the nurse hung the glass pint jar of Jim's blood. He then came over and stood by the bed waiting. When the transfusion was underway, the nurse washed and dried her hands. Then she turned to face her teary-eyed listeners.

"Was not long ago I wasn't working here but actually a street vagrant as she is," and she motioned to the sleeping girl. "In spite of me lack, I swore on my mother's grave I'd never sell myself nor let any man approach me like so. And one day, 'ole Zebe himself come up to me and try to make me another one of 'his girls'. But I weren't going back on me word—not for him nor any other cheapskate fellow. And for my resolve, that mean, old badger…well, just look but don't touch."

And then, she slowly turned around as she began to unbutton her uniform blouse. After a minute, she shrugged her top off her shoulders just enough to reveal half of her back.

Jim caught his breath as Beth gasped in even further shock; Silver could only gulp as his eyes watered and greased up.

The nurse's back was completely marked over with black and red stripes that were raised above her skin about a quarter of an inch. The pattern of the vicious lines showed that the hand of a strong and emotionally-charged man had committed this.

As she pulled back up her blouse, she said, "At Death's Door I was the moment I was brought to this very hospital. When I was stronger and better, I didn't dare go back where I was hopeless, friendless and defenseless. So Doctor Cortez who took care of me wounds let me stay to start over me life here."

"That means…" Jim said brokenly, "…he's been doing this…killing others like you and Jill…all this time?" Her silence and grim, pained countenance was answer enough.

"Oh No," Beth moaned as she turned back to gaze upon Jill. But even the sight of the helpless, badly-wounded lass was still too much for her. So, Beth covered her face with her two hands and began to sob with pity and remorse for poor Jill and others like her.

Silver, calm but shaken nonetheless, slowly moved over to the nurse and stiffly placed his human hand on her right shoulder. "Sorry, Lass. Terrible 'ting fer any man t'do to such a good spirit as yeh."

The nurse sniffed back tears herself and ran her hand across her green eyes. Shaking her head, she said, "Been so long since I've 'ad time t'shed ev'n a single drop over any others b'fore. 'Course…others know 'bout 'ole Zebe 'n what he do as well. 'Ting is, nay anybody can catch 'im in the act nor the moment a lass takes her last breath—that is, 'til He—" and she motioned towards Jim,"—done come and rescue 'er."

Silver sadly turned his head towards Jim. But the young spacer/soldier just stood with his back towards them looking straight at his charge. "Ya tink she'll live?" queried the old space salt. The nurse just shrugged. "If yer friends blood there does what we 'xcpect 'n if she's strong 'nuff…well…maybe. Jest maybe."

Bethany, who was still weeping softly, padded right over to Silver and buried her face into his enormous belly. At this, He looked down upon her with deep compassion and tenderly laid his cyborg arm around her back. "There, there, 'lil Beth, it's alright. She'll be trim and bonny once again. Ye'll see. Heh, Jimbo 'eres not going ta let anyone harm her again. Right'o Jim?", Silver asked with a little gleam of brightness of hope in his eyes.

But, instead of replying to the affirmative or even lowering his head in sadness, Jim just turned around very slowly and faced all three.

What they all saw shocked and scared them.

His eyebrows slanted down almost to his nose as his jaws clenched together as if he were about to give a lion's growl. His arms hung straight with his fists clutching tighter and tighter as his breathing increased.

Beth had never seen her Jim so angry before; Silver had but once: back on Treasure Planet when he'd given Jim his ultimatum—to give him the map or be destroyed!

"Jim please—don't!" Beth pleaded as she reached out to touch her husband on the arm. But Jim only turned his eyes to her hand before turning his still-fierce gaze back to them all.

"That old guy's never going to hurt anyone ever again—I'm going to see to it!"

With that he turned and dashed out of the room. "Jimbo!" "No, Jim, wait!" Bethany and Silver called out to him but he'd already turned the corner and was gone.

**Author's Note:** Oh Boy!! Has Jim gone to far already? Has he 'snapped' and gone on a rampage??? Wait for the next chapter which shouldn't be far away.

P.S. I'm sorry to have been away so long. But I'm getting back up steam and I'm thinking of changing the story's format to be more of a "rescue" mission for Jim. Keep watching and waiting!


	6. and What Jim does about It

"Jim, Jim," Bethany called for her husband as she burst out the front door of the Intersolar Hospital. But Jim was nowhere to be seen, nor could she hear him. "Oh Silver," she turned as the big cyborg came out after her, "How can we stop him? I don't want him to get into more trouble!" "I'll go'n find 'im fer ya, Miss Bethany. Jest get yerself right on home t'the little ones 'n I'll come right back with Jimbo." So Silver started out and back for the town as Beth headed straight back for the Benbow. "But Silver," she called and he turned back to face her. "Please don't let Jim get hurt or worse!" "Ah, don't be a'worryin' there, Miss. I've kept yer husband outa trouble b'fore 'n he's not going ta win over me this time." "Thank-You so much!", she replied before turning back on her return.

About three-quarters of an hour later, Beth was sitting on one of the big pillow and throw-covered couches in the Grand Admiral room. She was reading a story book with her children Samuel, Faith and Samantha sitting around her and Morph hovering over them with big eyes. Every once in a while, she'd glance up and look out the big sitting window that overlooked the pathway and front gardens of the Inn. She was doing her best to not exhibit or feel any anxiety over Jim's and Silver's extended absence. Yet every minute that passed only served to heighten her concern that perhaps Silver had failed to find or apprehend Jim in time and her husband had already committed some rash and dreadful deed. Still, she kept her demeanor and kept her mind on her children and continued—

"Hey look, Mommy", interrupted Samuel so suddenly that Beth started. "What is it, Samuel?" "There's some people coming up the driveway." They all stood up, moved (or in Morph's case, floated) towards and gaped out the giant sitting window.

And behold, just as Samuel proclaimed, there were indeed people coming up the driveway—all of them women, _young _women in fact: the oldest had to be no more than 24 while even a few of 12 or 10 years were noted by Bethany. And all of them, judging by their dress and expressions, were very poor, raggedly-dressed, even some bandaged in filthy rags and hobbling a little.

"Hey There's Daddy—and Uncle Silver!" pointed Faith. Yes, it was indeed Jim with the arm of a girl no older than 15 draped over his shoulder as she tried to keep her bandaged hand on her makeshift splintery-wooden cane. Silver, meanwhile, was bearing a sleeping figure wrapped up heavily in thin and torn linen blankets. A few of the young girls did look up and catch the Hawkins' family' gazes but immediately looked down or away.

"Come with me, Children," Beth commanded her son and daughters as she headed for the front door. Opening it wide, she trotted out to meet the gaggle of…well, whoever these womenfolk were.

"Jim, Jim dear," she called out his name after saying a few quick 'hellos' to the faces she passed. The group eventually came to a stop as each lady-of-the-night (for that's what they all were) paused to look behind and at the well-dressed and beautiful young lady running past with a pink blob of…something whizzing after her.

"Jim, Oh Thank the Lord, there You are!", she exclaimed as she ran right into him and instantly embraced him with the cripple still clinging to him. "Hey Beth, I'm so Sorry, I just had to do something quick for them—all of these girls." He smiled a bit as Morph greeted his old friend with a cheek nuzzle. "Why Jim, what on Montressor are you talking about?" she asked as she leaned back so her deep brown eyes could meet his round, big blue-irises. He smiled slightly and looked towards the Inn where his children awaited in the front doorway. "Wait just one minute, Jim Hawkins!" she stated loudly as her sharp mind began to comprehend the situation. "You don't mean to—" "Yeah, why not?" he asked. "JIM, in Here? You—you…" she began to sputter.

"Hey Samuel, Samantha, Faith," came an older man's voice from inside, "Don't leave the front door open like that." Jim looked past his wife at the Inn and then back at the group standing next to them. "Here, can you help Felicity here just one moment? I got to talk this over with Dad." With that, he gave 'Felicity's' arm over to Beth's support as he ran towards the front door where Leland was looking out over the group with amazement and shock.

"Dad, I need to talk to you," Jim puffed as he slowed at the threshold. Leland turned to him in disbelief. "Jim, what's the meaning of—", he searched for the right words, "—all this?" "I'm sorry Dad. I had to bring them someplace safe, you know, where I can look out for them." "Safe? From What or Who Jim?" "The old guy who beat and whipped the girl I went to find and help this morning. He's, well, their, or was, their master but he's, well, just look at them." Leland did for a few moments before making a grim face. He sighed and motioned with his hand. "Bring them on in and we'll talk about this, Jim." "Okay, it's alright," Jim turned and called to the group, "You can come on in now. Just remember to wipe your feet on the mat here at the front door."

"Thank goodness," said one of the younger ones. " 'bout time," mumbled another," I'm startin t'get me a chill in this here wind."

Everyone in the main lobby and dining room looked up in surprise and confoundedness as no more than 20 teenage and early-twenty year old girls entered and stood, sat on the floor, looked around at the furnishings and said nothing. "Hey, if you all want, you can sit down at these tables," Jim said and motioned to the dining room. As they all followed his suggestion, Leland took him aside.

"Jim, I want you to tell me everything right now: what happened this morning and how did you get yourself into this?"

So Leland listened as Jim told of his search for the girl named Jill, hearing of and rescuing her from her torturous master, bringing her to get medical attention and then going to help her fellow housemates.

"When I found out that old guy, Zebe, was doing the same to them all, Dad, I, uh, went back to see if they needed help. When I got there, I told them everything and what had happened to Jill. And they were all…really scared. Daniella—she's over there leaning against the wall, in the red scarf—she said that, well…if their 'boss' got better and came back…he'd be so furious that he'd go into a murdering spree on them. I know they're not lying to me Dad, I swear."

"I believe you Jim, I believe you," his Father spoke reassuringly. "But why bring them all here?"

" Cause they know…he'll come back—if he's not dead. I said I'd help protect them and I know that I can do that here. Their…house is always cold, no heating stove, all they had for food is bread crusts, they didn't have enough money for them all and…that old cutthroat would have found them anywhere else if they tried to run away."

"And you think that it's safer here, is that right Jim?", Leland asked with his hands on his apron-draped hips. "It's good thing—don't misunderstand, Jim—what you're doing for them all. But, and this is important as well, this is an Inn and we've got customers to take care of. I mean, think of all the rooms they'll have to fill up, not to mention the amount of food they'll need everyday."

Jim looked back up with a fierce determination in his face. "Dad, I know…you'd rather I'd just helped out that…well, her name's Jill. But I know…that…sigh…I'd really regret it if the rest came to worse like her. Please, Dad…I'll take care of them, I'll do anything, Everything! I'll see that they get enough food and clothes. I'll even get some derelict ships like Silver did years ago and use them for temporary quarters. Please Dad, I really…want to do this. I just,sigh, I can't let any of them get hurt too."

Jim ceased speaking for a while as he and his Father just stared back at one another.

Finally, "If you're going to put them up here, Jim, all the accommodations are up to you: I'll expect you to cover ALL of their needs, including medical necessities as well. I'll keep the Inn's regular customers going while you see to these ladies' comforts. I'll provide you with some expenses by the way. And if any of them are willing and able, they can help here or else find them some work OTHER than what they did before. And absolutely no…'business' here, Clear?"

Jim grinned broadly at Leland who smiled back and held out his arms. Jim took the cue and fell forward into them as his Dad grunted a little from the rush but enveloped his son.

"I'm proud of You, Son, I really am." "Thanks Dad," Jim smiled a little tearfully at his Father's encouragement. Leland then cleared his throat and looked out upon the group. "Alright then. What say we get some meat in their belly's? I'll just bet they're all hungry." "Aye, Dad." Jim spoke exuberantly as he dashed towards the kitchen door—right as it swung right out into his forehead.

**BOMP!!! **

"OW!!!!!" Jim yelped in pain as the hard hickory panel smacked him hard and solid. "Whoa, Jim!" Leland started for his injured son. "What's going on?" Silver queried as he hadn't looked carefully before opening the door with his back due to the meat platter he was carrying. "Aaauauuugghhhh,", Jim moaned as he bent over double with his father trying to rub the point of impact (in order to prevent blood pooling in the injury and causing a concussion). "Mommy, Daddy's hurt," Faith called aloud so that all turned to see. "Oh, Jimbo!", Silver realized his cause suddenly and stashed the tray on a nearby table to tend to his friend. " Sorry, lad, so Sorry. Didn't even see ya comin' what with me back t'yeh." "Just…," Jim groaned painfully, "…take me back to the hospital and…admit…me—ohhhhh."

"Oh here, Father, let me take care of him," said Beth as she gently pushed her father-in-law away so she could see to her husband. "Here Jim, look at me, LOOK AT ME!" she ordered to get his attention as she grasped him under the right arm to stand him straight. He finally did but his eyes were still out of focus as his 20 year-old girl rubbed his forehead vigorously. "Better take him upstairs Beth. I'll see to everything down here," Leland suggested. She nodded and sighed regretfully. "Come on Jim, you need some rest," and gently led him towards and up the stairs.


	7. New HelpersNew LifeThanks to Jim

**Four Days Later….**

Sarah Hawkins cheerfully and exuberantly stepped down from the stagecoach as it stopped at the stone pathway that led to her beloved Benbow Inn. After such a long adjournment from her usual routine of looking after the establishment, she was glad to be back. Looking westward as the coach driver removed her luggage from the roof, she could see the Benbow only 28 yards away—quite a distance for her to lug her two well-stuffed suitcases.

"Want me t'take these up t'yer house fer ya, Ma'am?" "Oh that would be so kind of you, Sir," Sarah answered kindly to the lanky salamander. The amphibian doffed his tri-cornered hat and grunting heavily, hefted the two trunks as he set out up the path with Sarah not far behind.

Silver was just setting several large breadbaskets on the big, round 10-seat table when his ear caught the sound of the front door opening. And then, "I'm home!" "Missus Hawkins!" the gig, old cyborg marveled as he turned around to see his employer enter the dining room from the front lobby. "Oh Mr. Silver, I'm so happy to see you again," she exclaimed as she walked up to him and hugged him fondly. He himself couldn't help but return the embrace as well. "Missed yeh something great too, Mrs. Sarah."

"Mother!", exclaimed Bethany as she was coming down the stairs with Samantha and Faith who immediately cried out, "Grandma, Grandma's Home!" "Bethany, Faith, Samantha!" Sarah called out likewise as they ran to hug her. Sarah enfolded her daughter-in-law ferociously-yet-lovingly while her two granddaughters embraced her by the legs.

They stayed that way for a few seconds until Sarah parted from Beth's arms. "My, you truly look so much better, Mother," Bethany spoke pleasantly, her precious brown eyes sparkling happily. "Thank-You very much, Beth, I feel so refresh, so good, so…" Sarah gestured as she tried to think of the right word but she just sighed happily and let down her hands.

"SARAH!" "Leland!" And wife ran to meet husband in an even tighter, more loving and intimate embrace. "Oh Leland," she uttered into his thick, strong shoulder, "I SO missed you." "Sarah," he just breathed softly with his eyes closed and hands clasping her backside, "My Dear, Precious, Darling Sarah."

Her eyes, closed shut too, began to water with heartfelt joy and pleasure at this rare-yet-strong tenderness of his; it did her so much good to know that Her Leland, whom she long thought to be lost to her forever, was once again hers and even more devoted to her even more than the days of their youth.

"Heya, Miss H," came the voice of the ever unflappable B.E.N. as he flung of his chef's hat and clanked over to literally _lift Sarah right off of the ground!_ "Whoa," she cried startled so, "Okay, B.E.N., Okay now, please, put me down, this instant." "Whoops, Sorry, Sorry, sorry there," he apologized. "No harm done, B.E.N.," Sarah replied brushing off her light purple sleeves," Just…be careful that you don't knock anyone around when you do that." "Roger, Mrs. H.," the robot saluted.

Just then, Sarah paused in her doings and looked around the dining room quizzically. Odd, but there seemed to be…let's see…one, two, three, four, five, six…no…12 new waitresses and busgirls taking care of the customers and diners. "I see you've noticed our new staff, Sarah. What do you think? Good, no?" "Oh, well…yes, Leland, I mean…that's—GOOD. Why, I never had so much help before."

"He's your son, aye Miss?" asked one short brunette passing by with a bucket of dirty dishes. "Excuse me but what did you say?" Sarah asked befuddled and wide-eyed. "Yes," Leland answered with a firm nod, "He's her son too." "Leland," Sarah turned to him fully confused, "What is going on here? What's she talking about?" "Well, yer son—" "It's okay, Meredith, I'll tell her the whole story," Leland spoke authoritatively as he held up his hand. Meredith just shrugged and moved on in to the kitchen.

"Leland Hawkins," Sarah stood with her hands on her hips, "I want to know right now, What is the meaning of all this?"

"Leland sighed and gestured. "It's…a long story so let's go sit in the Admiral room where you can hear it in comfort. Rita, if you please, will you serve up some tea for two?" "Sure thing, Mr. Hawkins," answered a slim and bodacious blonde with stringy hair, mischievous friendly blue eyes and a sweet smile. "An' sum coffee bread with fruit too?" came the voice of another with silky black hair down to her back and smooth white palor of skin. "Oh yes, Thank-you," Sarah answered politely as she paused beneath the doorway between the dining hall and the Grand Admiral room. The girl smiled with her rosy pink lips and grass-green eyes before twirling off to the kitchen.

"That was, hmmm, let me see if I can remember now…" Leland turned his brown eyes up and put his hand to his chin, "…Oh Yes, Shelby, that's her name." "And what about all the other's?", Sarah asked, "Are you going to tell me their names as well?" "Oh, don't fret about that, Dear. You'll get to know them all by the end of this week—and vica-versa."

"But I want to know, Leland, how you got so many helpers while I was gone." He sighed and leaned back into his big, cushy, brown leather armchair to rest his arms. With his pointer finger absently playing with over his lips, Leland launched into his narrative.

**CLUNK!** The 24-foot square hickory post finally gave way and let itself get pulled into it's pre-cut joint in the mainmast. "Yes," Jim spoke to himself. Dangling by a waistline rope, he pushed with his feet to swing over to the solid lintel piece. Once there, he retrieved his hand-crank drill from his tool belt, positioned it a few inches from the junction aiming 45 degrees downwards towards the trunk and began to turn the handle.

Right now, he was constructing a massive support system for the roofs that would eventually provide shelter for three old and well-worn three-deck barks. Jim had bartered for them yesterday down at the Port of Kentucky and, for a 'meager' sum of 50 droubloons for each vessel, the Harbor Master had gladly relinquished them. Before the sun-star Cornelio had set that same evening, Jim had succeeded in towing them home with his father's skiff before 'beaching' them behind the Benbow Inn.

This morning, after bracing the hulls with 15-foot wood pylons half-buried in the ground right alongside and circling the individual ships, Jim had begun to set the outlying roof supports along with Samuel his son, Bertram one of his old neighbors and Jeff Gallagher a former soldier.

Also assisting in the foray were Alan "Snapper" Crispwell, Cory Sherman, Greg "Count" Bouwers and Misha Lana Miller; all four were Jim's fellow grunts in the 1st Battalion, 33rd Special Infantry Regiment—the very first graduate class of the Interstellar Special Forces School. After hearing of Jim's "Crusade for Justice" (what Cory would say as a manner of ribbing Jim), the 4 had gladly volunteered—on the condition that the work was only for a roof.

"Anything more and you're taking "Mr. Mop Mrs. Bucket" on a tour of every floor in our houses", Alan jokingly 'threatened' Jim. "Whatever," Jim answered in jest likewise.

At this time, the 'crew' had succeeded in getting the corner and middle roof posts partially and firmly planted in the rich, dark Montressor soil. Now, the challenge for them all was getting the cross-beams in the pre-desired position on the posts…about 35 feet above the ground! What made it worse was the fact that they had no cranes available to help hoist the beams. So they had to improvise: with wheel pulleys (temporarily) nailed atop each single post, they ran ropes through the pulleys and slowly and agonizingly raised each one until they were attached at the right angles. And now they were down to the last one.

Jim's hand drill finally reached its hilt whereupon he ceased his now-torturous cranking. "I've got the hole cut," he yelled down to Greg, Jeff, Alan and Mr. Bertram who were belaying the line supporting the unbolted end of the 24-foot beam. "I'm going to send in the bolt!" "No hurry, take your time," Greg grunted out as his well-muscled upper body throbbed heavily and his fully-stretched arms threatened to pop out off his nearly-taut shoulders.

"Jim did WHAT!" Sarah screeched in an extremely high-pitch that made the girls and Samuel cover their ears. But Leland was expecting such a surprise and only raised his hands so his palms were vertical. "It's o-kay, Sarah. As far as we know, the man didn't die: in fact, he's currently laid up in traction in the sick bay of the Constable's Station. And since he's been unconscious from that day Jim bested him, there's been no pressing of charges. All that the Authorities required was a significant bond and a written, signed and witnessed testimony from Jim. They know he's not going to run away and his superior officers are fully informed to everything as well."

"Well," Sarah sighed somewhat relieved although she had begun to wring her hands slowly, " I know…well..at least Jim's taking responsibility for his actions this time. Still…" She sighed and let down her hands in a sort of dejected manner. "Here I was gone all this time thinking and believing that Jim was more…more…" "Ya mean," Silver interjected from his spot near the galley door, "that Jimbo would'a known better than t'pcik a fight with such crust?" Sarah turned her gaze to meet his and slowly nodded with a smile. But the gigantic spacer-turned-cook just chuckled and strolled over to his employer with Morphy right on his shoulder. "Ahhh, but what yer Jimbo's done is more'n enough t'make any poor lass throw 'erself at 'iz feet jest ta get sume ov what he's done for 'em."

Just then, the back door opened slowly and in tramped Jim, Samuel and the rest of the "roofers". "James Pleaides Hawkins!" Jim snapped his head up and into his mother's gaze; instantly his light-blue eyes went wide and his mouth fell partly open. Besides Sarah his mom, his dad, wife, daughters, Silver and some of the girls were standing around and looking right at him. Instantly, Jim realized: His mother had just been told EVERYTHING.

Meanwhile, Sarah just put her hands on her hips and aimed a flustered gaze at her only son who just never seemed to ever grow out of his penchant for causing more 'trouble' and mischief than she'd ever understand—ever.

"Mom…I, uh…" Jim began. But then he noticed something: all 24 of the former-floozies had gathered behind Sarah in a group…and they were all looking at him—with warm and enormous smiles on their faces. Seeing their immense joy, Jim just dropped his face and ever-so-slightly, permitted a tiny, itty-bitty grin to settle on his face.

As did Sarah.

"I'm so proud of you, Jim!" And with that, Sarah walked over and threw her arms around Jim in a tight, yet warming hug…which Jim returned.

"Three Cheers for our Hero!" called out cook Meredith. And with that, the whole Inn erupted in the classic cry of triumph!

"Hip-hip, HOORAY! Hip-hip, HOORAY! Hip-hip, HOORAY!"

**Author's Note:** Fun Huh? And THANK-YOU SO MUCH, BookRose, for Your Reviews; I've never been so B-L-E-S-S-E-D when I'm writing. But hang on—It's not over


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